 | Poems (1797) |  |
176
SONNET VII.
['Twere well methinks in an indignant mood]
'Twere well methinks in an indignant mood,When the heart droops unfriended, when mankind
With their cold smiles have dup'd thy honest mind,
On the wet heath to stray, while dimly brood
The gather'd grey-mists on the distant hill:
Drear should the prospect be, dreary and wide,
No second living one be there espied,
None save thyself; then would thy soul be still,
Curbing its sorrows with a proud despair!
Then would'st thou tread thy path with firmer pace,
Nor let one scowl on thy resolved face
Blab to the elements thy puny care,
But sooth'd to think, that solitude can bless,
Muse on the world with lofty quietness.
| Poems (1797) | |